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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584275">An Engagement of Pepper Chicken and Butterflies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaysCreations/pseuds/heartwideopen'>heartwideopen (KaysCreations)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Sunday Kind of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cannon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Reunited and It Feels So Good, professor Eve, set seven years after 02x08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:40:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaysCreations/pseuds/heartwideopen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You just wanted to see me, so you decided to look up my information, find my location, and drop by after seven years?”</p><p>Villanelle takes a sip of her water and nods, “Seven is the number of completion…”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Sunday Kind of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Engagement of Pepper Chicken and Butterflies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><em>Fuck, </em>she’s tired. Eve ruffles her hair for the umpteenth time, wondering why the hell her students think she can’t recognize the difference between their writing and someone they paid to do their papers. It’s almost midterms and she worries for a few of her criminology students who just don’t seem to get it. During her five years at the university, students generally do well in her classes, but there are always a few who slack off and then show up to office hours scrambling for all the help they can get. Her colleagues tease her about being a tough grader, but she thinks she grades fairly—after all, her students are going to need all the preparation they can get for the real world. If they had to fail a semester, so be it. Lord knows she failed enough in her own career in London. Her life turned out to be moving pretty smoothly, so those one or two students will be okay if they aren’t able to pull up their grades this time.</p><p>Eve sighs and takes off her glasses, giving up on getting anymore work done without her head exploding. She shuts down the computer for the night, reveling in the feeling of her chair rolling across the carpet as she moves to get away from those shitty papers. With a grunt and a crack in her back, she smiles slightly as she thinks about the unopened bottle of merlot waiting to be consumed with her dinner. She cuts off the light in her study and makes a mental note to set an early alarm and finish the study guide in the morning (she’ll definitely forget, but it’s the thought that counts).  </p><p>She walks into the kitchen, yet again grateful that she decided to go with an open floor plan and wide windows displaying the vast number of trees in backyard. After a long day, the last thing she needed was to be surrounded by walls in a cramped area<em>.  This was peaceful</em>. Washing her hands and tying an apron around her, she sets out on seasoning the chicken. She hums quietly as she works, otherwise enjoying the peaceful silence around her. </p><p>When she first arrived in Portland, Oregon, five years ago, she decided to take up cooking lessons. First, she was frustrated with her ability to burn something so easily. Soon, however, her instructor, Kia, taught her to slow down and allow herself to think of cooking as meditating rather than a working on a task she felted obligated to complete. Slowly, as she began to relax, her cooking skills got better, and she no longer relied on take-out to survive. It didn’t hurt that Kia was insanely attractive and would flirt with her around the kitchen.</p><p>Eve smiles as she thinks about the woman, loving the way the sun would hit hickory skin at just the right angles. They enjoyed each other’s company for sure, but Eve just wasn’t ready for serious commitment. She had just gotten a divorced two years prior to them dating. Settling wasn’t something Eve was ready to do. She needed a life of excitement and adventure, not to be bound by the expectations of a serious relationship. Lucky, Kia understood. They developed a very close friendship, occasionally hooking up in between their latest Tinder flings. Eve would have to call her soon and plan to have lunch with much-needed mimosas to help her get through midterms.</p><p>Pouring herself a glass of wine, Eve leans against the counter for a moment before the starts prepping the veggies. They won’t take long to steam, so she decided to relax a bit as the chicken cooks in the oven.</p><p>She thinks about one particular student who has a blatant crush on her. She’s had her fair share of students to admire her, but never one this brave. Tammie is a smart girl and her grades are nearly perfect, but she doesn’t understand boundaries. She almost reminds Eve of Villanelle and Anna… Eve sighs and physically shakes her head to clear of mind. Even after seven years, she wishes she could stop thinking about her so much.</p><p>Her doorbell rings. Eve looks at the clock and sees that it’s only pushing past 7:30, so it isn’t exactly too late for someone to come over, but whomever is at the door is still uninvited.</p><p>The doorbell rings again.</p><p>“Coming!” Eve calls, wiping her hands off and walking towards the door with the knife hidden behind her back. Carolyn said she was safe years ago, checking in every six months, but Eve can never be too careful.</p><p>When she opens the door, she lets out a breath as if all the air has been kicked out of her lungs.  <em>Speak of the devil…</em></p><p>“Hi, Eve.” With a confident voice that Eve has dreamt about more times to be socially acceptable, Villanelle stands there in front of her with a hesitant smile.</p><p>Mouth moving wordlessly, Eve looks at the blonde woman standing there in a business causal navy suit that she’s sure has been tailored. It’s been nearly a decade since they’ve last seen each other. After Rome, Eve was sure she’d never hear from her again. As much as it pained her, Eve had come to terms with a life without Villanelle. Now, here she was in the flesh.</p><p>“V-Villanelle…” Eve starts, suddenly remembering her manners as Villanelle looks at her expectantly. “Come in, sit.” Eve opens the door completely and waves her inside, unaware of her right hand swinging the knife in the air as she points towards the couch.</p><p>Villanelle raises her brow and looks pointedly at the knife. “De ja vu, huh?” she chuckles, stepping past Eve and into the house.</p><p>Eve looks at her hand and balks when she notices. She quickly walks to the kitchen and places the knife on the counter, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company…” Eve wipes her sweaty palms on her apron and realizes that she hasn’t felt this nervous in years. She quickly rips off the <em>It’s Caramelized, Not Burnt! </em>apron that Kia got her as a funny birthday gift.</p><p>Villanelle chuckles and looks around the room in approval. “Nice place, Eve. You have done well for yourself.” Grazing the leaf of a plant, she goes to the couch and takes a seat.</p><p> Still in the kitchen, Eve turns her back towards Villanelle and takes a deep breath, bracing herself against the sink. She briefly thinks about the “It’s happening!” scene on The<em> Office </em>before wondering which one of her students got her into thinking about her life as moments in pop culture.</p><p>Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she attempts to be a good hostess to her unexpected but <em>very </em>welcomed guest, “Would you like something to drink?  Water, tea, wine…?” She’s already pouring herself another glass of wine before Villanelle answers.</p><p>Villanelle looks at Eve’s back with a small smile, “Water will be fine.”</p><p>Eve quickly pours Villanelle a glass of water and makes the smart decision to not knock back her glass and refill it. She has the feeling she needs to be somewhat sober for whatever conversation they’re about to have. Eve walks back into the living room and gingerly hands Villanelle the water and taking a seat across from her.</p><p>“Thank you.” Villanelle continues give her a small, patient yet hopeful smile. “I must admit, your house is more spacious and organized than I expected.”</p><p>This makes them both chuckle as Eve relaxes slightly, “Still as blunt as ever.”</p><p>“Honesty is policy.” They both chuckle at the strangeness of the American children’s phrase sounding coming from Villanelle’s mouth before falling into a comfortable silence. </p><p>They sit there taking each other in. Villanelle shows some signs of aging. Her face is slightly slimmer, and her eyes have a reserved yet tired look. She is just beginning to show signs of true laugh lines and barely noticeable crow’s feet. Eve has aged gracefully, as Villanelle expected. Eve’s skin glows healthy and she looks happier. Villanelle is relieved.</p><p>The Russian woman breaks the silence first, “You are more beautiful than I remember…”  Her soft-spoken words make Eve blush.</p><p>“Thank you.” Eve thinks just as much of Villanelle, but she doesn’t want to say it out loud (not yet). She doesn’t know what else to say, but she can’t shove the burning question down her throat. Her questions come out just as quickly as ever, “Why are you here? I mean, it’s been almost a decade, Villanelle. What do you want?”</p><p>Villanelle leans back slightly, her mind clearly going somewhere as her eyes gloss over quickly before she throws a smirk in Eve’s direction, “Don’t make us sound so old, Eve. It has been a long time but not quite ten years. Besides, I just wanted to see you.” She shrugs causally as if they were just friends catching up over tea.</p><p>Eve cocks her head to the side, looking at Villanelle curiously, trying to figure out her game. “You just wanted to see me, so you decided to look up my information, find my location, and drop by after seven years?”</p><p>Villanelle takes a sip of her water and nods, “Seven is the number of completion…” She smiles at Eve hopefully, nerves shining through her eyes and tense shoulders.</p><p>Eve looks back at her, unsure of what she means. “What exactly is complete, Villanelle?”</p><p>“Our time apart from each other,” Villanelle says it as a matter of fact. “I think we have both waited long enough.”  She puts the glass down and stands up, admiring the plants Eve has managed to keep alive. She walks over to older woman and sits down beside her, taking her hand, “I have missed you, Eve. I hope you have missed me, too.” Her voice is soft and sincere, and it breaks down every wall Eve was working on building.</p><p><em>Seven years</em>…</p><p>Eve had done nearly everything she could to come to peace with her past and move forward. Almost a year after Rome, she went to therapy and divorce support groups while she was in Canada to help her cope with all of her loses. At the end of the day, she was able to compartmentalize and deal with everything that happened: she lost her best friend. Fine. She lost her job. Fine. She ruined her marriage. Fine. She lost the only person that had ever made her feel alive. Fuck.</p><p>She wasn’t kidding all those years ago in Paris when she told Villanelle that she thought about her constantly. Even after Villanelle shot her, Eve was still worried about her and hoping that she was safe. Yes, Eve was mad because Villanelle shot her, but who wouldn’t be? Still, she was hoping Villanelle would come find her before she went to America for good. But she never did.</p><p>Eve spent less than a year in witness protection, floating around Europe before spending a year in Canada. Once Carolyn ensured her that she was safe from the Twelve, MI6 gave her a good bit of money for her troubles (and sealed lips). So, with no husband, no job, and no gorgeous psychopathic assassin, Eve decided to do a little traveling in America before settling down in Portland, Oregon. It was sunny with just the right amount of rain, and the city was full of excitement, which was just what she needed. With a little bit of help from Carolyn and a glowing recommendation (well, as much as someone like Carolyn could glow), she was able to secure a job as a professor- her experience and her unorthodox methods of teaching making her one of the most sought-out criminal psychology professors in the region after just five years. And Eve was <em>happy</em>- she’d gone out on dates, joined a rock-climbing group, and she loved her colleagues. Still, there was just one piece missing, and now it was sitting right beside her.</p><p>“Yeah…” Eve admits, squeezing Villanelle's hand slightly, too overwhelmed to fight the truth. “I have missed you. More than I care to admit.”</p><p>Villanelle’s eyes glimmer with excitement and relief. She smiles broadly and then takes a breath as if to compose herself. “Wow…this is easier than I thought! Turns out I will be better at this marriage thing than expected!” She laughs gleefully and stands, holding her arms out to her sides as she stretches her back. “Something smells good, baby. What is for dinner?” She walks into the kitchen and peeps inside the oven. “Mmm, I did not know you could cook. Looks like you had us all fooled, especially the mustache. Too bad you settled for shitty meat potato pie all those years. HA!”  </p><p>Eve’s head basically spins as her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. <em>Marriage? </em>“Hold up, Villanelle. What marriage thing? You’re getting married?” Had she really been so foolish to believe Villanelle would come all this way just to see her. Of course she would come to America just to brag about her life and how she got over their little game of cat and mouse. Maybe this was her way of saying she finally won.</p><p>Villanelle looks over her shoulder quizzically, “Yes, Eve. You know what that is since have been married before, yes?” She starts washing her hands, tap water clashing against the metal sink, effectively drowning out Eve’s garbled response. “We will start planning as soon as possible. I do not want to wait too long. Maybe you can help pick out the invitations. I don’t really want to handle the little things.” She scrunches her nose up, thinking of the time spent on picking out what color ribbon should go across a crème or off-white card. She does not have the patience for such things. She would much rather lament over the outfits and venue.</p><p>Suddenly, Eve is standing across from Villanelle, startling her slightly as she turns around looking for a towel. The shorter woman speaks to Villanelle with barely contained rage and disbelief, “Villanelle, please tell me you did not just fucking fly from God-knows-where after seven years just to have me plan your goddamn wedding! This is un-fucking believable. I want you out! Out!” Eve points to the door, snatching the dishtowel from a wide-eyed Villanelle. For someone at least two inches shorter than her, Eve somehow made Villanelle shy away from her (just a little bit).</p><p>“Woah, woah, woah! Eve, please calm down. I was just thinking that you might want to be a part of it. I will hire a wedding-planner instead. You can just sit back and show up, okay? Save the spice for later,” she coxes, smiling affectionally with a soft squeeze to Eve’s shoulder before moving past Eve to open the oven. “The chicken is done, yes?”</p><p>“What? No!” Eve trailed quickly behind her, feeling like she was quickly losing a battle she didn’t even know she was fighting.  </p><p>“No to the chicken or no to the wedding planner.” Villanelle always had a way of making Eve seem like the irrational one.</p><p>“Yes, the chicken should be about done, and no, I don’t care what you do for your planning. I not taking any parts in that. Now, stop fucking with my dinner and go away!” Eve huffed as she smacked Villanelle with her towel.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous Eve, I can’t have a wedding without you. I just thought it would be nice to have you involved. I don’t see what the big problem is.” Villanelle shrugs. “Besides, you are a much better cook these days. Now let’s eat.” Villanelle’s eyes crinkle around the corners as if she just made the cleverest joke.</p><p>Eve damns her heart as it stutters. </p><p>“Thank you, I started taking lessons- No! Flattery will not get you out of this. What are you <em>talking</em> about?!” Eve crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently.</p><p>Villanelle looks at Eve curiously, pulling a piece of the chicken straight from the pan and popping it in her mouth, “Shit, that’s hot!” she quickly spits it into her palm and Eve doesn’t find herself as disgusted as she should be. “Eve, I am talking about our wedding. What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Our <em>what</em>?!” Eve yells, suddenly feeling lightheaded. She sits down at the table in disbelief. She ignored the thrill of excitement that went down her spine at the word <em>our</em>.  She was <em>angry, </em>dammit. Villanelle had no right to shoot her and show up seven years later expecting to be married! So what if she stabbed her; that did <em>not </em>make it an even game.</p><p>“Eve, I love you and you love me. I told you that we have waited long enough,” Villanelle’s eyes soften as she looks at a disheveled Eve. She sits beside her, tucking one of Eve’s many stray curls behind her ear, “I am sorry that I didn’t give you the proper proposal but I got a tad impatient when I looked at the calendar and saw that our anniversary was coming up.”</p><p>“Anniversary?”</p><p>“The day you stabbed me.” Villanelle say simply, as if it is obvious.</p><p>“That’s hardly romantic, Villanelle. Besides, we weren’t even dating!”</p><p>“You don’t have to date by official standards to know you love someone.”</p><p>Eve looked at her with wide eyes. <em>Where the fuck did all this sappy wisdom come from?</em></p><p>Villanelle continues, “Now that we are both in the same place again, I would like to settle down with you. So, Eve Polastri, will you marry me?”</p><p>All Eve says is, “Parks.” Villanelle’s eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “My name is Eve Parks. I know you already looked it up, so don’t play coy. And no, I will not marry you.” Eve runs a hand through her hair and looks at Villanelle tiredly, taking a deep breath to calm down. One thing she learned from teaching was that it is always best to breathe and then ask questions calmly, “Villanelle, I am going to ask that you forget about the chicken and start from the beginning, slowly. Explain to me why you are here and why you think you want to marry me after disappearing.”</p><p>Villanelle sighs and nods in agreeance, “Okay, Eve Parks. I will explain why I <em>know</em> we should get married.”</p><p>Eve chooses not to acknowledge how good her name sounds in Villanelle’s mouth.</p><p>Villanelle looks unsure about where to start but after taking a breath, her eyes turn serious as she looks at Eve, “Look, I understand this is a lot; it is a lot for me, too. Things have changed but one thing remains the same: you are the only woman I have ever loved. I have done some seeking for my <em>inner self</em>, and I realized what I had with Anna was manipulation and lust for acceptance and nurturing… With you, I was able to be myself and you saw through all of my bullshit, and you still cared. I know you say you did not love me, but I know there was part of you that did, and still does. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Eve Parks. I want every second that I am with you to make it right.”</p><p><em>Fuck. </em>Eve melts.</p><p>This is the most sincere Villanelle has sounded since she did begged Eve to run away with her in the ruins. Eve looks desperately in her eyes, searching for a lie. There is none. <em>Damn Villanelle for making all these memories come back full force. </em></p><p>Eve sniffs, averting her eyes from Villanelle’s for just a second before returning with a starling urgency, “How do you know?”</p><p>“Know what, Eve?”</p><p>“That I loved you?”  Eve’s voice cracks as she turns to face Villanelle. Villanelle’s honey-gold eyes shine with softness. As gently as she humanly can, she caresses her face, reminiscent of Paris, and wipes a lone tear that has trekked down Eve’s smooth cheek.</p><p>“I know because we are the same. One heart, two bodies. And sometimes when you love someone, you will do crazy things. We both did many crazy things, but I think it is time we bring it down a notch, hm?”</p><p>Eve nods.</p><p>“Do you still think about me?” Villanelle asks, face gleaming with a hope</p><p>“All the time.” Despite trying, Eve’s longing for the woman never went away. Through all the dates and experiences she’s had since Rome, there was never a moment when thoughts of Villanelle did rest in the background, ready to be awakened any second.</p><p>They look at each other, smiling softly- Eve in soft disbelief that this is happening and Villanelle out of pure satisfaction.</p><p>“I am happy to be here with you, Eve. We will talk about everything that transpire since Rome, but for now, I want you to know that I am serious about marrying you.”</p><p>Eve’s heart swells. Everything is happening so fast, but it feels just right. Still, she wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t test the waters, “I could already be dating someone.”</p><p>Villanelle smirks, “You aren’t. Let’s skip the stubborn part, okay?” She strokes the back of Eve’s hand. It makes the butterflies in Eve’s stomach want to find a home and rest.</p><p>Eve chuckles, “Okay…”</p><p>“Is that a yes?” Villanelle’s eyes search Eve’s face for an answer, her stomach tightening in anticipation.</p><p>Eve smiles slowly, “It’s a maybe. You have to court me first.”</p><p>Villanelle laughs in relief, “Eve Parks, I will court the shit out of you! You won’t regret it, моя любовь.”</p><p>Eve has a feeling that she won’t. In fact, it just might be the best <em>maybe</em> she’s ever said.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please comment and let me know if you want more. </p><p>Not sure how fast I'll be updating the series.  The KKK are a major threat in my state right now, and I'm still trying to process my people getting tear gassed and killed by police in 2020. </p><p>Fret not, my friends. The most depressed I am, the faster the updates because this is my escape! :)</p><p>Black Lives Matter!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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